A tall, broad shouldered man with fine, silvery hair and a well-kept beard stood on a raised dais in the center of the throne chamber of the Eternal Spire. He was dressed in an extravagant suit of armor that was more decorative than functional. After all, a living god had no need of such mundane methods of protection. He was immortal, eternal.

The man stared out at the infinite starscape, The Eternal Throne by his side, his guards dismissed. He loved to watch the stars, those brilliant balls of fire hanging in the void, worshipers eternally praising the might and vision of those who had set them in their places before time itself began.

One day they might sing his praises too, one day they might give brilliant testimony to the god who was born a mortal, the deity who was once condemned to die at the hands of time and circumstance, one day they might sing the praises of the Dragon of Zakuul.

But he was no longer sure that day would come. The recent disturbances in the Force drew his attention and aroused his concern. The first disturbance had been a dramatic shift in the Dark Side, as if an undersea tectonic plate had moved, creating a disruption in the fabric of spacetime that, if not stopped, might become a tidal wave that would result in untold destruction, a cataclysm that only he could weather. Normally such a prospect wouldn’t trouble him, but he had invested too much in his great work to let it be lost now, which meant that the source of this first disturbance had to be identified and the necessary action had to be taken.

Which brought him to the second disturbance; the simultaneous deaths of the Dread Masters had sent ripples through the Force, such that he had felt it across the vast distance separating him from the events. While their passing in and of itself was a notable event, the possibility that they could even be defeated was much more worrisome. To accomplish such a feat would have required power and co-ordination between the Republic and the Empire that he did not expect. Depending on what information he could acquire regarding their defeat, he might have to delay his timetable…or even accelerate it.

His thoughts were interrupted by his Force senses detecting two individuals entering the turbolift to the throne chamber far below. Their Force signatures radiated up to him clear and strong, like twin beacons. Their power in the Force dwarfed nearly any mortals he had encountered in all of his years, unsurprising, considering their heritage. Yet still they were raw, untested and inexperienced. Power was nothing without control, and if he could not control them they were useless to him.

The turbolift reached the throne room, and as one the two men, identical in nearly every visible way, entered the chamber. The one on the left wore robes of pure white, while the one on the right wore a purely black garb. Both of them had a golden belt buckle in the shape of a royal seal, a serpent rearing back and hissing, it’s long tongue extended. Their bald heads shone softly in the light of the chamber, and as they approached the throne they fell to one knee and awaited his recognition.

The man didn’t move, he remained as motionless as he had been before they even entered the chamber, as if he didn’t even know they were there. Something that could have been a smile tempted to play across his lips when he felt the simmering animosity in the white-clothed young man surge to become boiling anger. He waited a moment longer before speaking.

“There is a system on the very outskirts of our borders called Gierdaar.” He said at last, his rich, succulent voice effortlessly filling the throne room. “I am sending an expedition there to conduct long range scans of certain systems,” he paused, “and I am sending you to oversee it.” The man in white exploded in fit of rage, forgetting himself and standing to his feet.

“You would send us on child’s errand!” He snarled, his voice twisting to sound more like the growl of a rabid dog than a human. The older man made no indication he had even noticed the young man’s change in demeanor, radiating an implacable aura of dismissive apathy.

“I would send you to do my will.” He said, as if it should be obvious. The black-clothed youth reached out and touched his brother’s arm gently, calmly, and an unspoken conversation occurred. The man in white shook off his brother’s hand, but sank to one knee again and bowed his head, his anger still bubbling and frothing beneath his deceptively placid surface.

Good, good. The older man thought, every day he proves himself more pliable, perhaps he may be useful yet. Without turning around, the older man waved the two youths away in dismissal, and they rose to their feet and exited the throne room. What the next few years would look like all depended on the results of the investigation he had just dispatched them on, but it was important that they not know just how crucial their mission was. Allowing them even a sliver or fragment of validation could completely ruin two whole decades of dedicated, calculated sculpting. They were the vessels, and he the potter, shaping and molding them into the perfect tools that he could use against his enemies.

Still, neither they nor their sister were suitable for his purposes. It seemed he had yet to find a being who was truly capable of sharing in his grand design. His thoughts wandered back to a place they often went of late, the so-called “Hero of Tython”. While the Jedi was foolish and idealistic to a fault, he was no worse a candidate than the three children who had proven such monumental failures. With the proper intervention and direct attention, he might yet make a suitable vessel.

Then of course, there was the Wrath. That blunt instrument his Shard had used to keep the braying animals of the Empire in line. Despite his appearance giving the initial impression that he was nothing more than a powerful but brutish and inelegant weapon, the truth was that exterior disguised a nascent genius, a sleeping intellect that had fallen into disuse and been buried under a mountain of useless codes of honor and sentimentality. There was true potential there, and the touch of a master craftsman such as himself might bring it forth and reveal its true extent.

But both of these vessels would require time to perfect, possibly a decade or more of personal, constant attention and work. It would not be easy or quick. Still, he reminded himself, what is time to he who is eternal?

____________

The jubilant chords of a sastrayer pierced the clear night air as the various nobles of House Thul and her allies and vassals filed into the main building. Guards inspected the identification and invitations of all but the most prominent of guests, resulting in an occasional scuffle when someone who wasn’t invited tried to bluff or bribe their way in. Inside, the massive throne chamber had been transformed into a ballroom, the throne itself standing empty, as Darth Imperious was mingling with his subjects instead of holding himself aloof. The room was filled with the buzz of conversation, laughter, and music. In the center of the floor was a large space that had been cleared for dancing, and several noble couples were swaying to the vibrant and lively music provided by the live band.

Seated sideways at one of the tables, Darth Nox tapped his fingers on the back of his chair in time to the beat as he surveyed the gathering. There were many faces here he didn’t recognize, then again he didn’t care to know who they were. A man of his stature didn’t have the time to know every single underling. Seated beside him, Darth Skade was engaged in conversation with one of the more prominent noble couples of House Thul; Sir Aled and his wife, Lady Nora.

“What do you say, my lord?” Aled asked. When Skade didn’t answer in the first few seconds, Nox realized the man was talking to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said turning around to face them, “could you repeat the question? I was distracted.” Aled smiled and obliged.

“We were merely discussing Alderaan’s role in the ongoing war. I am curious to see what your perspective on that topic is.”

“The Dark Council has yet to make a final decision,” Nox said. “Even if it had there’s no guarantee I’d be able to discuss it. Still, I can assure you that we have decided on one thing: Alderaan is key to our strategy and must be protected from both external and internal threats at any cost.” Aled looked visibly relieved.

“Thank you for putting this foolish old man’s worries to rest my lord.” He said in a self-deprecating way. His wife gave him a scolding smack under the table.

“Think nothing of it.” Nox said. “The Empire will not relinquish Alderaan easily. If the Republic wants it back they’ll have to let countless worlds and billions of their citizens suffer just to attempt to retake the system.”

“Is that what the new space station is intended to prevent?” Lady Nora asked.

“Yes.” Nox replied. “That new space station in orbit is being armed to the teeth and given multiple defense platforms so that in the event of a large-scale fleet battle The Empire will hold a significant advantage. Many of its weapons and tracking systems are long-range as well, meaning it can detect Republic fleets several systems away and fire at them with intimidating accuracy the moment they come out of hyperspace at the edge of the system.”

“Sounds terribly expensive.” Sir Aled commented thoughtfully.

“For a single world it would be.” Nox agreed. “But the Empire has more than enough funds to invest in such a project without it being too costly for us.”

At that moment, a familiar figure swept by them and took a seat in between the two couples, who sat on opposite sides of the table.

“Your majesty!” Sir Aled exclaimed, he and his wife bowed their heads in surprised acknowledgement of their ruler.

“Peace, Aled.” Imperious said with a placating gesture. “I only want to talk with Darth Skade and her master, could you give us some privacy?”

“At once my King.” Aled said, already on his feet, leading his wife by the hand towards the dance floor.

“So,” Nox said turning to Imperious, “has it gotten old yet?” Surprised and perplexed, Imperious let his confusion show.

“Has what gotten old?” Nox chuckled.

“All the bowing and scraping. I thought the Empire was bad for that, Alderaan is worse!” His half-joke received a half-smile from the newly crowned monarch.

“No it hasn’t gotten old yet, I still enjoy watching the lengths some of them go to display their complete submission. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Of course, my apologies.” Nox said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you remember that message you sent me not too long ago, about events unfolding that cannot be stopped?” Nox squinted briefly as he tried to summon the appropriate memories.

“Yes, I do, now that you mention it.” He said after a long moment.

“Well I’d like to thank you.” Imperious said. “You were right as always, and I have a new apprentice to prove it.” Nox’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“A new apprentice? Do tell, Darth Imperious.”

“He’s a real prize.” Imperious bragged. “The Jedi didn’t hold onto him tight enough, I see real potential in the boy, he might even make a true successor to the throne one day.”

“Perhaps more.” Nox added in a low voice. “Perhaps one day he might sit on the Dark Council.”

“With his potential, I wouldn’t rule it out.” Imperious agreed.

“Where is he?” Nox asked. Imperious indicated the balcony just above them, and Nox stretched out with the Force. He found the boy easily enough, and saw immediately why Imperious was so proud of his newest acquisition. The boy was brimming with hate and self-loathing, possessed at once by a deep anguish and an ever-burning rage. He was angry at himself and the entire galaxy, making him the perfect vessel for an expert sculptor to shape into something formidable and powerful. That line of thought briefly took Nox back to his days as an apprentice, when the galaxy was in an uproar and to a young Sith anything seemed possible. He felt a sharp pang of longing for those days when his ascension had been lightning-fast and it seemed every enemy that rose against him could be surpassed and conquered through sheer power and determination. He almost got lost on his nostalgia trip until Imperious spoke.

“Is he not everything I claimed, my lord?”

“Indeed.” Nox said, bringing his attention back to the present. “He reminds me of myself at his age.”

“A high compliment coming from you my lord.” Imperious said. Suddenly, the young King’s attention was drawn to the entrance of the hall, where a middle-aged woman Nox recognized as Lady Rist, the head of Alderaan’s noble house of assassins, stood surveying the party, almost as if looking for someone. “Excuse me my lords,” Imperious said to Nox and Skade as he stood to his feet, “but my special guest has arrived.” Nox nodded in acknowledgement of his departure, and the young king set off at a somewhat hurried pace towards the older woman across the large ballroom. When he was out of earshot, Nox turned to Skade and spoke in a low voice.

“I want you to interrogate that new apprentice, discreetly. Find out as much as you can about his past and personality without tipping your hand.”

“Why?” Skade asked. “Do you think he might be useful to us? Or are you looking for leverage over Imperious?”

“There’s something about that boy,” Nox mused, “I can sense he has a role to play in upcoming events, and I must know what it is. Until then he is a potential threat.”

“Understood.” Skade said, getting to her feet and moving off in a direction that didn’t make it obvious that she was headed for the second floor and balcony above their heads. Nox turned side-saddle in his seat once more and watched the crowds for a long moment. His patience was rewarded when he found the blue-skinned Nautolan slave he was looking for carrying an empty drink tray back to the kitchen. He watched her from across the room as she left the ballroom and headed down the hall, passing through the doorway at the far end. Having located his quarry, Nox stood to his feet, straightened his fine clothes, and began to saunter over to a group of noblemen discussing matters of state. The time to make his move wasn’t yet, but it would come soon enough.

____________

Kayle watched from under the shadow of his hood as the Dark Lord emerged from under the balcony and walked towards a nearby group of Thul nobles who graciously accepted his self-insertion into the conversation. He was about to turn his attention elsewhere when he felt someone approaching, a Force user. He expanded his awareness; it was a woman, a Togruta. Her tall, voluptuous figure was accented by the slim, fashionable, and brightly-colored dress she wore. Her blue and white headtails were draped with golden jewelry, and her beautiful face was covered by a white tattoo. Kayle caught himself before he allowed her attractiveness to put him off his guard, but despite his best efforts he still couldn’t suppress the lust that roared in his veins and thundered in his heart. What he would give for one night with a woman like that…

“Hello.” Her voice, melodious as a singing bird and as soft as a downy pillow, entered his ears and slipped into his brain, leaving him dumbstruck. He couldn’t respond even if he wanted to. Instead, he forced himself to crush his apprehension and fear and turned his head to look at the woman, doing his best to keep his face cold and detached, praying that his eyes wouldn’t give away his weakness. The woman came to the railing beside him and leaned on it, surveying the party, allowing him to survey her.

This close to her, her perfume felt overwhelming, and he was immediately catapulted into a lustful fantasy of their bodies intertwined, their breath coming in short, synchronized gasps, her cries of pleasure-stop it! He cursed himself, but she was so close, so tempting… if he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her anywhere he wanted. His eyes travelled over her form hungrily. Even as he cursed himself for being so weak, his body screamed at him to do whatever it took to be with her. Caught between the monster of his own desires and his fear of being manipulated, he found relief in the teachings of his master.

Do you really think she cares for you?

No. He told himself, she doesn’t, she won’t, she never will. She’s a tool to me, nothing more.

“House Thul knows how to throw a party.” The young woman remarked, turning to him and catching him with her amber gaze. His heart skipped a beat or two and it was a struggle to keep his breath even, a battle that he later realized he lost.

“My master is a man of many talents.”He said, turning away from her in what he hoped would come across as aloofness rather than the shyness that it really was. “I hope he will teach me everything he knows some day.”

“With your raw talent I wouldn’t doubt he will.” The woman said. Was she flirting? Should he flirt back? How? What to say to a woman like her? How does one flirt with their superior? Out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman turn around and lean against the railing, her left hand tantalizingly close to his, her chest thrust out from her slightly arched body. The sight brought those highly charged fantasies roaring back, and they barreled full steam through his imagination. His pants began to feel uncomfortably tight, but he barely noticed.

“So tell me,” the woman said in a conversational way, “just how did you come to meet Darth Imperious?” The question brought his mind screeching to a halt, and the painful memories of what happened that night replaced the lustful imaginations that had dominated his thoughts. The feeling of not being able to breathe, the buzz and hum of dueling lightsabers, an activation hiss, a stunned gasp, a dead Twi’lek girl lying on the ground, the rain soaking the corpse, her blank eyes staring at nothing, her beautiful face frozen. The memories brought with them pain, and the pain brought with it a burning rage. The rage cleansed his mind and body of the hormones that had been surging through it, burning away his lust like a forest fire.

“Excuse me.” He said, turning and walking down the hallway behind them at a pace that was probably unnecessarily fast. He made his way through the halls until he found an outdoor balcony overlooking the mountains that surrounded House Thul. He leaned on the rail and let the cool night air clear his head. Grateful to no longer be under that intoxicating vixen’s spell, he let his rage and pain fade by mentally reviewing lightsaber drills. He got a few minutes of peace before he heard something that made him jerk his head around half in anger, half in hope.

“Hey.” It was the woman, she had followed him. His head was a little clearer now and the part of his mind that wasn’t enchanted by her was telling him something was suspicious, but his other brain prevented him from challenging her, and she came out to stand beside him. He noted that this time she didn’t come so close, and her body language indicated concern, rather than naked interest.

“I’m sorry about before, I shouldn’t have pried like that.” Kayle turned away from her and lowered his head.

“No, you weren’t in the wrong my lord. I was.” The woman laughed, the sound made him catch his breath, it sounded like the most beautiful music he had ever heard, and once again his lust seized the advantage in his internal struggle.

“Please, call me Skade.” She said. “I’m pleased to meet you, uhhh-”

“Kayle.” He said, a little too quickly. “My name is Kayle.”

“Well Kayle,” Skade said, leaning on the railing and once more pushing out her chest by arching her back. “How do you like the life of a Sith apprentice?”

“It’s…”Kayle struggled to come up with a comprehensible answer while his eyes darted between her face and various parts of her body, “a learning experience. There is so much about the Force the Jedi didn’t teach me, and my master has been opening my eyes to new truths and facets of the Force since day one.”

“Oh, you were a Jedi?” The woman seemed especially interested now. “Did you know I was once a Jedi too?”

“YOU WERE?!” Kayle shouted. He quickly realized his reaction was a little over the top, but Skade threw back her head and laughed, catapulting him into a lustful bliss.

“Yes, just as your master enlightened you, my master enlightened me.”

“How did it happen?” Kayle asked in genuine interest.

“Well, he killed my former masters after I betrayed him.” Kayle’s shocked confusion must have shown on his face, because Skade giggled when she looked at him. “Yes there is more to that story, it all started when I was ambushed by a group of Sith assassins…”

___________

Nox excused himself from his third conversation in the past ten minutes and began ambling towards one of the nearby hallways. Once out of sight of the ballroom, he quickened his pace and began to walk with hasteful purpose. After several turns he found himself in a long hallway near a door that led directly into the kitchen. He waited beside the door, knowing his quarry would be exiting via this doorway in the next few minutes. When she approached the door, he felt it through the Force, and readied himself to strike. She opened the door and stepped through, and in a flash of Force-assisted speed, he was on her.

He swept her up in his embrace and pulled her to the side, stifling her gasp of shock with one hand while the other wrapped around her waist. Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear until she saw his face and the broad, toothy smile on his features, and she visibly relaxed. He took his hand off of her mouth.

“My lord, you terrified me!” She exclaimed, her breath still coming in short gasps, her chest heaving. Nox pulled her closer, pressing her form against his.

“Are you saying I’m exhilarating?” He teased suggestively. She giggled.

“Yes, that too.”

“Just how excited are you right now?”

“Very.” She said in a naughty tone. Nox raised an eyebrow, and his free hand began tracing its way down her body.

“Perhaps I should determine for myself how excited you are.” He said in a low, breathy voice.

“Please, feel free to inspect me, master.” She whispered back in kind. When Nox’s digits reached their goal, she shuddered and a soft moan escaped her lips. Having confirmed the truth of her excited state, Nox smiled.

“Go to room 7193 at half past midnight,” he said, looking her in the eye, “Your services will be required.”

___________

Master Jay-Li was taken by surprise when the uniformed, helmet-less image of Supreme Commander Maxxor materialized over the holo-projector in the center of the Jedi Council Chambers, which were empty except for him. Despite the Supreme Commander’s horribly scarred visage, and the fact that he was interrupting his mediation, Jay was as calm as one would expect the Jedi Grandmaster to be.

“What can I do for you Supreme Commander?”

“Sorry to call on you so suddenly, Grandmaster,” The big man replied, “but the situation demands it.” Jay got a small tingling sensation in the back of his skull that ran down his spine, as the Force whispered to him of darkness approaching.

“What has happened Commander?”

“34 hours ago, the Deadalus-class cruiser The Star of Hope was dispatched on a top-secret mission to the Exos system. Their orders were to maintain complete radio silence except to report mission success or failure.”

“And?”

“They signaled a catastrophic mission failure roughly an hour ago.”

“Do you have a holorecording?” Maxxor shook his head.

“No. Communication was automated, encrypted text only for security reasons.”

“So you want me to investigate?”

“Yes. Normally I would just dispatch a stealth team to recon their last known location and follow up on any leads, but something feels off about this whole thing. I’ve got a bad feeling in my gut that something bigger is going on, and my experience in Special Forces taught me to always trust my instincts.”

“I’ve been experiencing premonitions of danger since just before you called, Commander.” Jay admitted.

“I knew it.” Maxxor said, “I smelled something fishy the moment I got that report. This has to do with the Sith doesn’t it?”

“Quite frankly Commander, I don’t know.” Jay replied. “Part of me suspects there are other forces in play here.”

“That’s the last thing we need,” The Commander groaned. “more enemies.”

“Send me the information,” Jay said, “and I’ll investigate personally.” Maxxor looked shocked.

“You don’t have to do that Grandmaster, I just wanted a Jedi on the case!”

“And you shall have one.” Jay replied with a pleasant smile.

___________

The blue of hyperspace gave way to the black void of realspace as The Beacon entered the Exos system. Jay set the ship to scan for The Star of Hope while he relaxed in the captain’s chair and reached out into the realm of the Force. He was staggered by the influx of Dark Side energy, the echoes of pain, fear, and death that still inhabited this area like spirits of the dead. The console beeped loudly to let him know the scanners had found his target. He set the ship on a course for the indicated destination, and allowed himself to dwell on the nature of the corruption he sensed here.

There was darkness, fear, hate, and something else; a cold, empty void reminiscent of deep, dark cave. Images and sensations flashed through Jay’s mind that almost made him shudder in horror, fear, and disgust, but he recited the Code and focused his mind on the light within him. As he neared the place where the scan indicated the ship was the feelings grew stronger, like a stench emanating from a corpse.

The Star of Hope was adrift. Nothing looked wrong with it, other than that it was seemingly without power. Jay scanned the ship again and found several docking clamps with localized power sources. He used one of them to dock his ship and entered through the airlock.

The inside of the ship was pressurized and with full life support, but everything else, including interior lighting, was off. Jay drew and activated a single blade of his lightsaber, using its light to guide him as he made his way through the dark corridors. There were no closed doors, no evidence of lockdown procedures having been initiated, just an eerily dark and quiet ship, as quiet as the grave. It wasn’t until several minutes into his trek that he came across the bodies.

Strewn about a room that didn’t have any signs of a battle were the corpses of three crewmen, two men and one woman. They all seemed to have gone down without a real struggle, simply collapsing where they were. That is until Jay rolled one of the men over and discovered a vibroknife wound in his back. Although how a simple vibroknife wound to the spine could kill instantly instead of merely paralyzing the victim was beyond Jay, it was still an indication of armed assault.

About four rooms and sixteen bodies later, Jay found the first victim killed by a lightsaber. The victim had been beheaded, likely from behind as the headless body was slumped over a console. Several others had been impaled or incapacitated in similarly lethal ways. By the time he made it to the bridge, Jay had accounted for most of the crew and confirmed that there were no other living beings on the ship. The bridge wasn’t at all dissimilar to the rest of the ship, although here there were some more indications of struggle. Some of the victims looked like they had managed to put an actual fight, but in the end they had ended up much the same as their fellows. Jay caught a glimpse of something dark on the floor when he reached the captain’s platform and when he used his lightsaber to reveal it, a chill ran down his spine.

Painted on the floor was the symbol of a large, black skull.

__________

The tall, broad-shouldered Sith Pureblood walked confidently down the hall that lead to Darth Aruk’s office. He was the very picture of peak physical prowess for his species. His huge muscles rippled and bulged as he moved, and his exposed chest gave the image of a solid wall of red flesh. His seemingly impractical armor was more decorative than anything else. His confidence in his abilities was such that he saw no need for real armor.

What armor he did have covered him from the waist down, and only parts such as his shins or feet were protected by cortosis. This prevented opponents from attacking him dishonorably and instead compelled them to attack his upper body, which they always believed to be vulnerable merely because it was exposed. This error in judgment often created realizations that birthed amusing expressions after he defeated them. He typically didn’t allow them to dwell on their failure for too long though, he wasn’t a sadist. He merely enjoyed seeing inferior beings realize their insignificance.

Reaching Darth Aruk’s office, he entered to find the Sith Lord standing with his back to him, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city below.

“You sent for me?”

“That I did, Darth Gravuk.”

“What do you require me for my lord?” Aruk said nothing for a moment, then spoke up just as Gravuk was about to.

“As of late I’ve been hearing whispers of a group of unstoppable assassins known as the Reapers operating within Imperial territory. It is said they move like ghosts and worship some kind of ancient death god.” He turned to face Gravuk. “My sources have not only confirmed the existence of this group, but informed me that the large majority of them were recruited from Sith and Imperial forces.” He took a few steps forward as he continued speaking. “I want you to find out everything you can about this cult, then wipe them from the face of the galaxy. Demonstrate what happens to those who worship any god other than the Emperor.” Gravuk bowed his head slightly.

“It will be done my lord.” Aruk turned and walked back to the window, resuming his watch of the city.

“Go. Do as I have commanded. Do not return until you have something of value to report.” Gravuk turned and left the room, leaving Aruk alone with his thoughts. As he strode down the corridor, he felt a hand grasp his arm. He whirled, his free hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber, until he saw the face of his wife, Darth Sekkis, in the shadows.

“Well?” She asked with her usual haughty arrogance, her thick Imperial accent not helping matters. “What did he say?”

“He gave me a new task.” Gravuk said. “I’m to investigate a traitorous cult and destroy them.”

“Really?” Sekkis asked, sidling up to him, her voice growing softer “is that all?” Most men might have been distracted by the feeling of her voluptuous body against theirs; she was used to inspiring lust everywhere she went. It was only natural that inferior beings would desire a crimson-skinned goddess such as her after all, but Gravuk was not most men, not in any sense of the word.

“Yes.” He said, unmoved by her seductive advances. “Send word through your network of spies and informants. I need any information I can get on the Reapers.”

“That won’t be a problem but, you have to do something for me.” Sekkis nearly whispered, her eyes twinkling with desire. The look vanished when Gravuk’s open palm smacked her across the face, sending her reeling back a few steps with one hand on her cheek. Her shocked expression vanished as quickly as it had come, and she lowered her hand as Gravuk leaned forward, jabbing a finger in her face.

“You will do whatever I tell you to Sekkis.” He snarled. “I owe you nothing, you are MINE! Or did you forget?”

“No.” She said, her voice cold.

“Good.” Gravuk said, and moved off, Sekkis watching him go as lust and hatred mingled in her crimson eyes.

__________

There was a thunderous boom as the small fleet of Imperial warships emerged from hyperspace near the Jedi Vault World of Colvari. The Republic fleet posted as a guard didn’t even have a chance to react before the Imperials opened fire. Fighters from both fleets were dispatched, and the battle was joined.

On the bridge of the Starblade, Darth Raze stood watching the battle and listening to the shouted reports coming from the various bridge personnel.

“The enemy’s forces are diverging.” Called one crewman. “Their auxiliary forces are moving to intercept our flanking attack.”

“My lord, we’re being harassed on the port side by several squadrons of fighters.” Another chimed in. “They’ve damaged two of our turbolaser batteries!”

“I want fighter squads Dax, Ferrus, and Telmarr on those corvettes!” Raze barked. He turned to the second crewmember, “Divert power to the flak cannons, blast those Republic dogs out of the sky!”

On the Starblade’s port side, several weapon emplacements rotated and lifted their nozzles towards the squads of fighters that were peeling off for another bombing run. In a flurry of motion they rained blaster fire down on the offending ships, causing a sizable number of them to explode. Because of their formation, very little damage was inflicted upon their surviving comrades, but the deadly accuracy of the Starblade’s weapon systems had rendered more than a third of the fighters useless.

On the front lines, Imperial fighters harried and flew circles around the Republic fleet’s corvettes. They ganged up on them in groups of five or six, and quickly disabled their weapons, followed by their shield generators. By the time the remaining corvettes were within range of the flanking party from Raze’s fleet, there were only four of them left. The three Imperial corvettes and Gage-class transports made short work of them, overpowering them with numbers and firepower, moving forward to flank the faltering Republic fleet.

“Sir, we have incoming!” An ensign reported, just as a new fleet appeared from hyperspace a little farther out.

“Get me the commander of that fleet.” Raze demanded.

“They’re already hailing us sir.” The ensign replied.

“Very well, put them on the holo.” Raze said, turning to face the hexagonal table next to him.

The image that sputtered to life was that of a petite, feminine Twi’lek woman. Her body and face were covered in Sith tattoos, and her looks could have easily made her a fortune on the stripper pole or the Holonet, but the look in her eyes was pure, unadulterated bloodthirst.

“Darth Raze,” the woman said with a hint of scorn, “I wasn’t expecting you to poke your ugly mask out of hiding so soon.”

“Darth Kraliss,” Raze replied distastefully. “If you have nothing to offer but insults I have a battle to win.” He stretched his hand out towards the console as if to terminate the connection.

“What I have is a wager.” Kraliss replied with a toothy grin. The smile revealed her teeth had been filed to sharp points, granting her a more predatory image. “I reckon I can destroy more of the remaining Republic fleet than you can. If I win, I get first choice of the spoils.”

“And if I win, I claim Colvari’s secrets.” Raze replied evenly. “I’ll take your bet, Kraliss.” The red-skinned Twi’lek smiled, revealing her sharp fangs again.

“I suspected you might.” The connection terminated. Not more than a few minutes later, one of the bridge crew approached him and whispered in his pointed ear.

“My lord, we’ve detected a stealth shuttle leaving the capital ship of Kraliss’s fleet.”

“Thank you, lieutenant.” Raze acknowledged her with a nod of his head, and she returned to her station. That blasted siren. Raze thought to himself, Kraliss had attempted to dupe him. By making that wager she had hoped to get him focused on the fleet battle while she slipped away, past the now crumbling Republic blockade and landed on the surface to steal whatever she could take with her. Turning to go, Raze resolved that she would see none of Colvari’s spoils as punishment for that little maneuver.

“Harkanous!” He bellowed, “Take command.” He opened the commlink to the hanger dispatcher. “Prepare my shuttle, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

__________

Jay-Li paced back and forth across one of the Jedi Temple’s healing rooms. His vigil was interrupted by the appearance of Calphayus in the doorway, flanked by two armed Jedi Knights.

“You sent for me, Grandmaster?”

“Yes.” Jay replied moving towards him and sliding an arm around his shoulders. “How are you feeling?” He asked as he guided Calphayus deeper into the chamber. The escorts took up positions on either side of the doorway.

“To tell you the truth the night terrors haven’t stopped,” Calphayus said ruefully. “but that’s to be expected when your mind has been linked to five horrible monsters for three centuries. I’m just thankful to still be alive.”

“And you still remember nothing of how your former captors were killed?” Calphayus shook his head.

“No. Maybe it’s because I subconsciously don’t want to remember, but there are a lot of gaps in my memory. Our bodies were not meant to live for centuries Master Kenobi. I can’t remember whole decades of my life let alone what happened months ago.” Jay nodded in an understanding way.

“All the same, the more you can remember the better equipped we will be to deal with such things in the future.” Calphayus looked at him askance.

“Is this the only reason you called me, Master Kenobi?” He asked sincerely. “To check up on me?” Jay shook his head.

“No.” He admitted. “I need your help Calphayus.”

“How can I be of use?” Calphayus asked with cautious enthusiasm.

“There is a great veil of darkness obscuring the future.” Jay said solemnly. “I’ve tried my best to pierce it, but I’ve failed every time.”

“Ahh, and given my precognitive abilities you thought I might be able to help you to some effect.” Calphayus said knowingly. “I don’t blame you Master Kenobi but you must understand, I just escaped the dark, I’m not so eager to confront it again.”

“I understand.” Jay reassured him. “But this concerns the fate of the entire galaxy Calphayus. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.” He placed a hand on Calphayus’s shoulder, “the moment it becomes too much for you we will stop.” Calphayus seemed conflicted, but eventually he hung his head and sighed.

“Alright, let’s try it. But the moment anything goes wrong, we pull back, understood?” Jay smiled kindly.

“Absolutely. Your safety is paramount.”

“It’s not me I’m worried for.” Calphayus muttered ominously, sinking to the floor and entering a cross-legged meditating position. Jay lowered himself to the floor across from him, and opened his mind to the Force. The warm, golden waves of energy crashed over him, and he felt the familiar comfort of a child in its parent’s embrace. The empathic connection between his mind and Calphayus’s opened and thoughts and sensations began to flow freely between them. As the connection firmed and stabilized, Jay directed Calphayus’s thoughts towards the future. The world around them began to fade away, like a painting melting off its canvas. They soon found themselves in the realm of the Force, and they set off together towards the future.

They had not travelled long when they encountered dark currents of foul intent. Jay found himself struggling not to be swept away by the overwhelming tide of malice and hatred, steeling himself against the dark undertow. Looking up, he perceived Calphayus navigating the dark currents like he had been born in them. He tried to reach out, but he couldn’t reach Calphayus through the malevolent storm.

Suddenly, he found himself cast back into his body, laying flat on the floor as if he had been thrown back. He heard Calphayus’s voice repeating a steady, rhythmic chant, and once he gathered his scattered wits and cleared his head, he realized what the former Dread Master was saying.

“When Fear flees and Death dies, Darkness will consume the galaxy. When Fear flees and Death dies, Darkness will consume the galaxy. When Fear flees and Death dies…”

“Calphayus!” Jay-Li shouted, rushing to the former Dread Master and shaking him like he was trying to wake a sleeper from a dream. “Calphayus, can you hear me? Snap out of it!” The former Dread Master simply continued repeating the phrase mindlessly, his head thrown back, his body rigid and stiff, his eyes glowing a sinister yellow.

The Dark Side permeated the room, and Jay-Li wondered why Calphayus’s guards weren’t rushing in to help him. He looked over Calphayus’s shoulder and saw his answer.

The two Jedi knights had been thrown against the wall by some powerful force that had ripped through their defenses like they didn’t even exist and been knocked unconscious. They lay sprawled against the wall on either side of the doorway. In that moment Jay understood what had happened. An explosion of dark energy must have been released from Calphayus here in the material world, sending Jay sprawling and knocking out the two Jedi guards at the door. Jay’s Force defenses were considerably stronger and more developed than theirs, which explained why he had only been knocked over while they had been sent flying.

Calphayus continued to repeat the arcane phrase over and over, his eyes glowing as he stared up at the ceiling. Jay quickly realized he was the only one capable of saving Calphayus, and he thought he knew just how to do it.

Reaching out with his mind, he followed his instincts and felt the Force surge within him, travelling down his outstretched arms and bursting from his hands in a golden glow that surrounded Calphayus like a shield. Jay felt a piece of himself leave him and wrap itself around the trapped Dread Master, the light of the Force cleansing every impurity within the shield. Calphayus’s chanting stopped and the darkness began to evaporate off of him. The glow faded from his eyes and his head fell to rest on his chest as he fell backward. Jay darted forward and caught him before he hit the floor. He looked for all the world like he was asleep, and Jay found it hard to believe that such a being had once been an arbiter of terror and death. He looked so small and fragile, he could have easily been somebody’s grandfather.

Jay laid him down onto the floor gently, watching the unconscious man as his chest rose and fell. This is why I do it. He told himself. To give people like Calphayus another chance. Anyone else might have seen him as a threat and ended his life, condemning him to a lost eternity in the grip of the Dark Side, but I show mercy to give people like him a second chance. Everyone is just varying degrees of broken, but enough love and compassion, when applied with wisdom and care, can heal even the most broken soul.

Jay got up to check that the fallen knights were still breathing, when he confirmed they were both bruised but alive, he woke them with the Force and instructed them to take Calphayus back to his room and see to it he was not disturbed for at least a day and that he wanted for nothing. As the two men gently carried Calphayus away, Jay’s thoughts flew back to the chant the former Sith had repeated.

When Fear flees and Death dies, Darkness will consume the galaxy.

He got an eerie and persistent sense of foreboding when he considered what it might mean.

____________

Servant Three sat in the captain’s chair of his new starship, staring out at the void outside the viewport in contemplation. He still hadn’t been able to get the bloodstains out of the sheets, he would have to steal some new ones at wherever he stopped next. Sleeping in the same bed where you had killed a woman in her sleep was difficult enough without the daily reminder.

Things had gone over particularly well since he had left his post three months ago. No doubt the rest of the Hand knew by now, and One was likely furious. If the Emperor was ever to return Three would no doubt face judgment, but he had long ago decided he didn’t care. He’d rather die than live on as some twisted gargoyle guarding his master’s treasure, and if he acquired the secrets he was chasing, it was entirely possible not even the Emperor himself could defeat Three if he were able to find him.

The secret to absolute power over death.

That was what the holocron he had discovered in the Emperor’s library had said Darth Nekros had been searching for before he mysteriously vanished. Studying the Emperor’s notes on the holocron, he had found that his former master had not discovered anything more than the holocron contained, and simply written Nekros off as yet another Golden Age Sith Lord who had fallen victim to his own ambitions in seeking secrets of the Force, eldritch powers, and eternal life.

Three was not so sure. In studying galactic history, he had discovered several clues that Nekros survived past the point where his holocron had been discovered, and he believed Nekros had left it where it could be found, so that those who were worthy of such power might follow.

Leaning over, he keyed in a course for his next stop. He had just enough fuel to make the trip, so he would have to get more upon his arrival. That wouldn’t be a problem for a mere apprentice, let alone a Sith who knew almost everything there was to know about the Dark Side. The black void of space faded and was replaced with the blue streaks of hyperspace, and Three’s ship vanished in the blink of an eye.

___________

Lord Hargrev walked slowly across the camp, observing as the men and women around him bustled about, moving crates, filling out paperwork, checking and cleaning weapons, and generally carried on with their assigned duties. It had been more than a few months since the defeat of the Dread Masters at the hands of Darth Nox, and exactly how the Dark Lord had accomplished such a feat of power still eluded Hargrev. It certainly terrified him though. The thought that the Dread Masters, the Emperor’s most ancient and trusted advisors and prophets, could fall to a single lord of the Dark Council, made him nervous to say the least.

Nox had never spoken about how he had defeated the Dread Masters, and he had never needed to offer any proof of his victory. Hargrev had felt them die through the Force the moment it happened, every Force-sensitive in the galaxy had. But if Nox possessed such power, why would he not simply take over the Dark Council? Perhaps he fears the Emperor, Hargrev thought to himself, like we all do. Hargrev’s attention was drawn to the eastern sky, where an Imperial shuttle was on an approach vector headed straight for the camp. He hurried down to the landing platform and got there just as the shuttle was setting down. He waited patiently with his hands clasped behind his back while the hatch opened and the boarding ramp extended to touch Oriconian soil. A band of heavily armed Imperial Troopers marched out in single file and approached him, the leader stopping directly in front of him.

“Officer Dumal, Imperial Reclamation Service Black Squad Delta.” The armoured trooper said in a crisp tone. “We’re here to execute a lawful seizure of operations.” Hargrev was taken aback,

“On who’s authority trooper?”

The man wordlessly took a holo-transmitter from his belt and activated it, playing back a recording. The image of Darth Nox appeared, and for a moment Hargrev barely recognized him. Nox was clad in his newest set of armoured robes, the design for which had been procured from Rakatan records in the Dread Palace as well as several other places across the galaxy. The robes were covered in a rubbery, synthetic material created by a combination of Sith Alchemy and advanced technology. The recipe for the material had also been found in the Dread Palace, and testing had shown it to not only be flexible and capable of absorbing some of the kinetic energy of physical blows, but that it was also capable of resisting lightsabers and blaster bolts with effectiveness close to solid cortosis.

There were actual cortosis armor plates on several vulnerable places, such as the wrists and back of the hands, as well as on the shoulders, to prevent the wearer from being disarmed. Sitting atop the whole ensemble was a ghastly helm with twisted and stretched features. It had four small eye lenses instead of two, making it seem like a weird, inhuman visage sat behind that horrible mask, but in actuality the second pair of lenses were positioned to give the wearer a wider range of vision as well as confuse and perhaps intimidate the enemy. The helm itself resembled a creature with horns that jutted out from either side of its head and then curved downward at the tips. On the part of the mask where the mouth would be there was four circular breathing vents that cycled and filtered air, allowing the wearer to breathe in all but the most toxic environments.

Simply put, the armor was an ancient relic of the Rakata, with a slightly different version supposedly worn by their warlords in the far distant past. It had been designed for both practicality and to strike fear into hearts of friend and foe alike, and it was only one of the many trophies Nox had acquired from the Dread Palace over the past months.

“I am Darth Nox of the Dark Council, and as of this moment, in accordance with Imperial Regulation 209BH-67YT4, Article 27X, Chapter 13 of the Imperial Law and Penal Code, I am authorizing the lawful seizure of this operation.”

The recording ended, and the trooper deactivated the holo-transmitter and returned it to his belt.

“We’ll be unloading our equipment over the next few hours, secondary personnel are to begin preparing to depart the planet. You and all other primary personnel will be remaining here for the next couple of weeks to help ease the transition.” Utterly stunned, all Hargrev could think to say was,

“Yes…yes I’ll pass the orders along to the crew.”

__________

Nox fell back in the pillow, panting. Veeroa fell beside him, looking at him with her glassy black eyes and a big smile on her face.

“That was amazing.” Nox said enthusiastically. “I didn’t know Nautolans could bend like that.”

“It is-how you say-a talent.” Veeroa said, smirking mischievously. “I have not met very many who could.” Nox smiled back.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more enticing.” He said, rolling over and pulling her close to him for a kiss. Their flesh pressed against each other’s as their lips met in a passionate embrace. Nox pulled back after a moment, and Veeroa’s face fell.

“I will miss you when you leave.” She pouted, running her fingers down his chest.

“You don’t have anyone else to play with?” Nox inquired, half-joking. She shook her head.

“Nobody like you, my lord.” She replied, smiling up at him.

“Ahh.” Nox said, a small smile breaking across his face now. “Well that won’t be a problem for much longer.” Veeroa’s look of hopeful surprise turned his smile into a grin, and he leaned over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Grabbing the small piece of metal inside, he brought it around and handed it to Veeroa. Her already enourmous eyes seemed to grow wider when she saw it.

“This is…” Her voice trailed off in disbelief.

“It’s your new ownership tags.” Nox said. “Read the owner ID.”

“Darth Nox.” Veeroa said, still stunned at the revelation. “My lord I…I don’t know what to say! I’m so happy!” She threw herself onto him, hugging and kissing him enthusiastically. When she finally let him breathe, he laughed.

“But that’s not all.” Veeroa’s expression grew even more shocked.

“My lord, you really mustn’t spoil me.” She protested half-heartedly. Nox laughed again.

“It isn’t really spoiling you.” At her look of confusion he reached into the nightstand drawer again and this time drew out a sheet of flimsiplast with an official-looking seal stamped on it.

“What is it?” Veeroa asked excitedly.

“It’s your certificate of entrance to the Sith Academy on Korriban.” Veeroa gasped, covering her mouth and trying to disguise the fear that threatened to creep across her face.

“Don’t worry.” Nox reassured her. “You are not going in there unprepared. We still have two months until you are due at the academy. I will use that time to train you and give you a few tricks to help you survive.”

“How long have you known my lord?” Veeroa asked, struggling to keep her voice from trembling.

“I suspected since the day I first met you.” Nox said, “but the past few weeks have confirmed my suspicions.” Noticing Veeroa was trembling, his voice took on a much more soothing tone. “Come now love,” he whispered, reaching up and pulling her down onto him, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her gently. “There’s no need to be afraid, I am with you.” Her apprehension melted under his touch, her trembling turned to shudders as he ran his hands over her body, and small moans began to escape her lips.

The two lovers rolled over, wrapped in each other’s embrace, with the only witness to their union being the cool night breeze that blew in from the open balcony, and the watchful moon standing silent vigil over Alderaan.

___________

Xalek bisected the Jedi, leaving the two halves to tumble to the floor. He stood up and surveyed his handiwork. The foyer of the artifact vault was littered with the bodies of Jedi and Republic soldiers alike, all in various states of disassembly. Just then he felt a dark presence as bloodthirsty as his own fall over him, and he turned to see Darth Kraliss standing there, her form-fitting outfit clinging to her crimson skin, her tattooed Lekku twitching with anger and unsatiated desire.

“Darth Raze.” The Lethan Twi’lek hissed, showing her sharp, pointed teeth.

“Darth Kraliss.” Xalek said, falling back into a defensive stance with his saberstaff leveled in front of him. They stood there like that, staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Kraliss moved first. She sprang from her place with feline agility and speed, her lightsabers flying from her belt to her hands and activating in the space of an instant, their red blades clashing with his violet one.

Their eyes met and Xalek was captivated by the storm of emotions he could sense in her and the intensity in her eyes. But the clash only lasted a moment and before Xalek could even react she had darted back and then dashed in again from a different angle, moving with agility and speed that was astonishing even for a Force user of her power. Xalek barely had time to dodge her first blade before the second one nearly took his hand off. He only managed to deflect it because he knew the attack was coming, but even so his opponent’s speed was nearly overwhelming compared to his precognitive reflexes.

Kraliss danced away, moving with the all the grace and fluidity of a Twi’lek dancer, the raw sensuousness of her movements proving a dangerous distraction when her next series of blindingly-fast assaults damaged his armor and forced him to call upon the Force to shield him from her whirlwind barrage of strikes and counter-parries. Her accuracy drove her offhand saber directly towards his exposed left shoulder and despite his attempts to dodge it she managed to leave a singed scar that burned through his cortosis-fiber robes and flooded his brain with a fiery burst of pain.

He welcomed it, for with the pain came rage, and with the rage came power. Her next assault was parried by a series of defensive maneuvers every bit as furious as her own attacks, and when she didn’t quite recover her balance quickly enough, Xalek pressed the advantage, punishing her with a combination of heavy power strikes on her meager defenses and Force assaults of lightning and dark power that sapped her vitality and energy.

Kraliss backflipped to put some distance between her and the enraged avenger that was ravaging her defenses, but there was no stopping her opponent now. Xalek charged forward, not giving her time to recover. She flitted out of the way of his brutish attack and went in for a strike from the side, but Xalek was ready for her. In a feat of dexterity she had no doubt thought him incapable of he whirled to meet her attack with the spinning blades of his saberstaff in a explosive parry that disarmed her of both her blades, sending the now de-activated hilts clattering to the floor on the other side of the room. Xalek reared back and delivered a swift kick to the smaller Twi’lek’s chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her sprawling. In moments his foot was firmly on her chest with his full body weight on it. She squirmed, struggling to breathe until his blade hovered in front of her face. She stopped moving, but the hate in her eyes was palpable in the air around them.

“I win.” Xalek said, his triumphant smile hidden behind his bone mask, but apparent in his tone.

“Then do it.” Kraliss hissed. Xalek paused for a brief moment, actually considering it.

“No.” He said finally. “I claim your blades and the spoils of this world by right of combat, but permit you to leave with your life.” With the Force he drew her lightsabers to his other waiting hand and fastened them firmly to his belt before he took his foot off of her, letting her breathe easy and get to her feet. She glowered at him with such vehement hatred he almost thought she was Darth Salis for a moment.

“You will regret your cowardess.” She snarled, hurling the insult at him with vicious abandon. Xalek glowered back.

“The next time I see you, I will make you regret those words.” With a flick of his wrist he buffeted her with a Force blow, sending her reeling back. She snarled and for a moment it looked like she might attack him, but remembering that she was now unarmed against a foe that was at least her equal, she made the smarter decision and fled. Xalek activated his comm bead.

“Commander, I’ve secured the vault. Once the orbital battle is finished dispatch a reclamation team to assist me in recovering the spoils.” The voice of commander Harkanous came over the comm in response.

“As you command, Darth Raze.”

___________

Darth Nox strode through the halls of the Citadel, heading towards his office. His recent trip to Alderaan had been successful on all fronts. He had helped Imperious gain the loyalty and respect of House Thul and her subjects, and Veeroa was already on a shuttle to one of his outposts on the galactic outskirts, where he could provide her with the basic Force training needed to make her a shoo-in candidate on Korriban.

He wasn’t so concerned with circumventing the rules and traditions that had dictated the training of Sith acolytes for eons. He didn’t intend for Veeroa to be anything more than a plaything. Her Force potential made her useful certainly, and now that she had been shaped and molded to love and need him her loyalty would prove valuable, but in the end she was little more than another “toy” he was adding to his “collection”.

Meanwhile, Skade had proved her usefulness on Alderaan by managing to not only coax a wealth of information out of Imperious’s new apprentice, but also establish a bond with boy based on their similar backgrounds and the fact that the poor sap was hopelessly infatuated with Skade.

“My lord.” The sergeant on guard duty saluted as he approached. Nox looked at the man askance.

“What is it sergeant?” He asked. It was unusual for a mere guard to address him without permission unless there was a matter of importance at hand, or a message to be conveyed.

“A lord came by a while ago, left a message on your desk.”

“And you just let them in?” Nox asked, his fury threatening to bubble forth.

“They had the seal of Darth Mortis my lord.” The sergeant said hastily. “I made it clear he couldn’t enter as you were away, and he showed me the seal on the document. It was genuine, I swear!” Nox felt his ire fade, but only by a little. It wasn’t the man’s fault, whatever Sith had the gall to leave him a personal message in document form would likely have killed the man if he had refused to allow him entry. Still, such…discourteous behavior demanded recompense. Most Sith would have exacted this on the guard as “motivation” for any guarding their chambers to throw away their lives against Sith intruders, but Nox saw no reason to encourage suicidal behavior in the Empire’s finest out of some vain need to protect his personal spaces. Most of his possessions of any real importance were spread out across the galaxy and holonet, his office mostly contained distractions and trinkets, other than the technology and devices he needed to command his Sphere from a central location. All the same, he would have to have a thorough bug sweep done.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, to the sergeant’s visible relief. “carry on, sergeant. This time if anyone comes calling tell them I’m in, but they need an appointment. If they decline to arrange one, make some noise and I’ll deal with it personally.”

“Yes my lord!” The Sergeant barked, stiffening to attention as Nox walked past him into the hallway leading to his office.

Upon reaching his desk, he saw the document, its seal of approval clearly placed by the signature. Darth Mortis had read, signed, and stamped this document personally. Nox took his seat and started reading, skipping past the header and the formalities to get to the meat of the declaration.

In response to Councilor Nox’s application formally demanding the surrender of objects V20X56I and F4TO22L6 into the custody of the Imperial Reclamation Service by order of Article 7, paragraph 15 of subsection 9 of the Imperial code of Lawful Search and Seizure, the request is formally denied.

The Imperial Court asserts that the applicant has no legal or ancestral right to the artifacts claimed. Thus, in accordance with Article 10, paragraph 4 of subsection 9 of the Imperial code of Lawful Search and Seizure, the applicant is denied the right to take possession of the artifacts under Imperial Law.

Setting the paper down, Nox leaned back in his chair, disappointment, anger, frustration, and hatred all mingling in him as he seethed at the refusal. The laws quoted were irrelevant. The Empire was a bureaucracy where the law was concerned. The entire purpose of the law was to allow the Empire’s leaders to prosecute, arrest, torture, or outright murder anyone underneath them for any reason. When it came to disputes over property between equals, such as was the case here, the courts usually sided with whomever it would benefit them more to do so. In the case of two members of the Dark Council disputing who had claim to the artifacts recently discovered on Setmus Prime, Mortis himself had been required to preside over the case. It seemed he had sided with Aruk, rather than Nox.

The artifacts in question were nothing entirely special. They weren’t exceptionally powerful or useful to your average Sith, let alone Aruk, but the man had claim to them by right of birth. The artifacts had belonged to some ancestor of his back during the Golden Age, at which point they had been recorded as lost during the Great Hyperspace War. Their recent discovery had not been accomplished by the Reclamation Service, but rather by the planetary government while performing some necessary excavation to expand the planetary capital. Aruk had got to them first, but shown nowhere near the same interest in them until Nox had tried to claim them, resulting in a minor feud erupting between the two over who had the right to claim them. Apparently Mortis had decided to give them to Aruk instead of Nox.

This wouldn’t do. Nox needed those artifacts for his research on Oricon. While not exceptionally powerful, they were likely to provide him with extremely useful insights into the workings of the Dread Fortress and the many sorceries the Dread Masters had employed throughout their centuries-long tenure. While it was unlikely that Aruk understood their full significance, he didn’t need to. He knew that Nox wanted them badly, so he was going to do everything in his power to ensure Nox never got his hands on them. This could not continue, Aruk had become a liability. And its time, Nox decided, that I balance the budget.

___________

Gravuk strode confidently down the long hallway lined with sealed torture cells. Now and then he might pass one from which screams of pain and terror emitted, but he paid them no heed. His long strides ate up the ground until he reached his destination, at which point he turned and opened the cell door. Stepping inside, the door closing behind him, he scanned the room.

Everything had been properly prepared. His favored tools sat on a small table, near enough to be on hand during the interrogation, but not so close that a rowdy or resourceful prisoner might be able to reach them. The prisoner himself was bound by shackles to a long, flat table, tilted towards the door, holding the unfortunate being in a spread-eagled pose as if he were an animal to be butchered. That metaphor wasn’t entirely inaccurate either.

Gravuk walked around the tablet to which the prisoner was bound, inspecting all the mechanisms, ensuring that his quarry was firmly attached to the table. When he was satisfied, he stopped his circuit in front of the still-masked being and stood silently for a few moments, staring at the thing.

Repeated attempts to remove the skull-like metal helm encapsulating the entity’s head had revealed that the helm had actually been welded to the being’s flesh. Whether the act had been done against the beings will or simply out of fanatical devotion was unclear, but it hardly mattered. The rest of his soon-to-be victim’s body was not similarly interred in an armored exoskeleton, and thus was ripe for his bloody harvest.

“Pay close attention,” Gravuk finally spoke, in a low and intimidating voice, “because I will say this only once: Where is your leader?”

“He walks among you.” The masked man said, no hint of deception or hesitation, as if he were eager to tell. “He walks among you, and you know him not.” A cackle escaped the man’s lips, his voice cracking briefly as he reveled in his possession of the secret. Gravuk slammed one thick, heavy palm against the table beside the man’s head, startling him, and leaned in close, his voice becoming a snarl, his orange eyes overflowing with hatred.

“Who!” Gravuk snarled, “Who is he!”

“Death.” The man said, cackling again, his voice once more breaking as a delirium began to overtake his mind. “Death is here, Death is among us, among you, and soon he will claim what is his!” The man’s voice had taken on a reverent, almost rapturous tone, as if he could see visions of the profane god he worshipped.

“What is his name?!” Gravuk demanded. “Where is he?!” The man seemed to be ignoring Gravuk, staring up at something behind the Pureblood’s head. When he spoke, his voice was awestruck and delerious.

“Master!” He screamed. “Take me! Take me master! I am ready!” His back suddenly arched and he screamed, causing a startled Gravuk to jerk back as the man convulsed on the table. Suddenly, the violent spasms ceased and the body relaxed, a shuddering last breath escaping the grille of the ghoulish mask. Gravuk approached cautiously, he couldn’t sense the man’s life force anymore, it was as if his body had simply given up and died. Or, he allowed himself to speculate, as if it had been directly siphoned from him through the Force.

That conclusion made him particularly uncomfortable. It implied that the killer was somewhere in his compound right now. He activated the comm bead in his ear;

“Lock down the complex, ensure no one enters or leaves until a full, level five inspection has been conducted.” He closed the comm before the commander on duty could even reply, then turned and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind him before continuing to walk back down the corridor the way he had come.

Whoever had killed the man, he would find them. There was, after all, no way that anyone other than the Emperor himself could use the Force to drain someone of life from across the planet, let alone from lightyears away. Of that, he was certain.